Subjects
by PuppetJutsu
Summary: Two shinobi linked by a shared past. Two survivors of past experiments. A series of oneshots showing the struggles of Anko and Yamato and their lives as failed/sucessful? test subjects.
1. Survivors

_Author Notes: So, this is an idea I had ages ago that really stuck with me. I was surprised to find that, considering the vast amounts of obscure pairings that everybody writes about, there are very few Anko/Yamato fics. It seemed a logical and interesting thing to me, considering their shared history as Orochimaru's experiments and potential for an interesting and complex relationship. Seeing them paired up on a mission (for those that read the manga) only sealed the deal. So I decided that I would give writing a fic about the two a crack. Keep in mind that this isn't nessecarily going to be a Anko/Yamato fic, but I will be focusing on the relationship between the two. Anyway, hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think - good, bad or otherwise. _

A month. It had already been a month since she had returned to the village and Anko could still feel the watchful eyes of the village. The careful glances of the villagers, the constant presence of ANBU, Anko could feel the hate, the mistrust they radiated. She heard the rumours, the whispers behind her back, _Traitor, snake, disloyal, shameful. _They trailed her like her own shadow, fuelling the nagging doubts and thoughts that already lingered in her mind. She held no illusions that Orochimaru's betrayal hadn't tainted her as well. The cursed mark on her neck was proof enough.

Twelve years old and already a disgrace.

The first two weeks had been nothing but endless interrogation. Faceless ANBU asking questions she didn't know the answers to, Yamanaka interrogators probing her mind and searching her tattered memories, Tsunade and other medical experts inspecting the cursed seal. In the end it was the Third who wiped her tears away as he told her about Orochimaru's tampering of her memories, as well as his return and subsequent escape from the village, all happening while she lay dying and abandoned in a foreign country. With a sorrowful expression, the Hokage apologised and set to work applying his own seal to her Orochimaru's. Anko figured it was the old man's way of making amends to the girl he had handed over to a monster.

Now, former team mates shunned her. Old friends ignored her. Anko could understand their cold reaction but that knowledge did nothing to dull the ache left behind. With each throb of pain that seared through her shoulder and neck Anko could guess what each and every one of them thought – that she was diseased, infected.

Not that she blamed them. The same thought had entered crossed mind more than once. Her body alternated between burning fever and cold sweats, still adapting to a foreign chakra source. Her head ached from constant migraines, making it impossible to gather her thoughts. Anger and resentment gnawed at her chest and it was all she could do was keep from lashing out at others. She had been cast aside, accused of abandoning the village that had abandoned her instead.

Abandoned. The word was branded into her mind. Abandoned by the man she admired the most. The man she would have followed to ends of the world. Abandoned by the village she loved, that she wanted to grow stronger for.

So she had taken to spending her time on Konoha's rooftops where she could hide from the people she was growing to hate, from all that she once cared for. She watched as villagers and shinobi alike went through their daily motions. They made her sick.

The first of the winter's rains had come to Konoha. Indigo clouds released torrents of water, cold and heavy and unrelenting. Anko sat, drenched from the icy rain, above the busy roads, watching a group of children pick on a small boy. She saw a jounin watching from afar, an amused smirk on his face. A shopkeeper looked on, shaking her head in disapproval, but otherwise made no attempt to stop them.

Indifference. This village showed its true colours when no one thought they were being watched. Her eyebrows narrowing, Anko spat out into the street, watching as she hit the jounin, oblivious amidst the rain.

Angry tears prickled at the edge of her eyes, but Anko forced them back. Emotions were for the weak and a shinobi could not afford to be weak. It was Orochimaru's first lesson.

"Aren't you cold?" a voice sounded behind her. Startled, she stood to face it. A boy stood with his hands in his pockets, brown hair slick from the rain. Anko glared at the boy. She hadn't even sensed him approach.

"No," she replied sharply. She turned her back on him, hoping he would leave.

"I know all about you, you know."

This time she spun and stormed towards him, glaring menacingly at the boy. "You don't know a thing about me."

Smirking, the boy took a step forward and met her glare, his wide eyes never faltering. "I know that you were apprenticed to Orochimaru and that he left you to die." He leaned in, his face directly in front of Anko's. "I also know about the 'gift' he left you."

Jaw clenched, Anko gave the coldest stare she could manage. She felt a sharp pang in her shoulder and clenched her fists, trying to breath through the pain, making sure she showed no weakness in front of this stranger. "Leave me alone," she hissed quietly through gritted.

The pair stared at each other, neither wanting to be the one to look away first. Finally the boy gave a sigh and lowered his gaze. Stepping past Anko, he sat on the edge of the tiled roof. Scowling, Anko eyed him warily for a minute before joining him on the edge, several meters separating them. This was her spot, after all, and she'd be damned if she was going to give it up. She watched the boy as he swung his legs through the empty air beneath him, his face passive. He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at her.

"What do you want?" she asked.

The boy stared at her with scrutinising eyes and Anko felt herself growing more uncomfortable. He was staring through her, stripping back the clothing and flesh and muscle until he could see right to her core.

"I was one of Orochimaru's experiments."

The last thing she had expected. A cold chill ran down her spine. She watched him carefully, trying to find any signs of Orochimaru's work, anything amiss.

"I was the only survivor. One of sixty," the boy continued.

"Look, if you want an apology you've come to the wrong person!" The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally fell as Anko jumped to her feet. "I didn't know anything about Orochimaru's experiments. Why do you all think I had any part in it?" She yanked down on the collar of her shirt, the inky black mark stark against her pale skin. "He used me as well!"

"One of ten."

Her stomach clenched, a spectre hand twisting at her insides. She could feel her bottom lip quivering, but between the cold rain and tears she couldn't stop it. "Stop it," she whispered, her voice lost.

"You were one out of ten, weren't you?" the boy continued, "The only one that survived."

"Stop it," Anko repeated. Her head began to spin, her vision blurring. Searing pain coursed through her shoulder and neck. "Stop it, stop it. Stop it!" Her balance finally gave out and she stumbled to her left, towards the edge of the roof. Lurching sidewards, she felt someone grab her arm and pull her back. Falling to her knees, Anko waited for her head to clear. Breathing deeply, her vision finally came back into focus. She looked up, the boy stood over her, concern on his face. He held out a hand and helped Anko to her feet. Silently they sat back on the edge of the roof, next to each other. Neither spoke. They sat in silence as the rain poured over them.

"I know," the boy began, nodding towards the people below, "that they will never fully understand. They can only know the half truths. The villagers, they only hear what filters through from the shinobi, from eavesdropping to hearsay. The ninjas, they only piece together what little pieces of information they can scrounge with their own prejudices and opinions. Even the elders and the Hokage, as understanding as he is, can never truly understand what we've been through." He looked at Anko with a fierce determination in his eyes. "They may think that we're tainted, that we're worthless because of what happened to us, but they don't get it. And they will never have the strength that we possess, because they've never been through what we have. They have never been survivors in a sick man's experiments. You and me, Anko, we're the survivors." He looked down on the street, and for the first time Anko could see a glimpse of anger in the boys face. "We can only get stronger from here," he said, as if to himself.

Anko watched him, curiosity and pity eating away at her. Pity for him, for herself. For them both. "What's you're name," she asked quietly.

"Tenzou," he replied. Anko shifted closer to him until her leg brushed up with his. He had said that they were survivors, that they could get past the hate. She wasn't sure if she could quite believe it, but it was her first glimmer of hope since returning to Konoha.

Her past was lost to her, locked away and the key destroyed. She could only look to the future. With strength, she could pave her own future. Not for the village, but for herself. Together, Tenzou and Anko sat watching the village in silence, the rain drenching the entire village.


	2. Strength

The wooden post loomed in front of her, scorched and beaten. Her fists and shins ached from the constant pummelling, her chakra reserves low. Sitting on the grass she looked up at her wooden enemy and sighed. Staring off to the other training fields Anko saw other Genin being trained by their teachers. Their strikes were corrected, their techniques refined. Always being supervised, always being taught. Resentment built up, a familiar bitterness creeping into her chest.

She swiftly stood up and stormed away from the training fields and made her way back to her apartment. Closing the door behind her, she stepped over the strewn piles of opened books and scrolls. Making her way through the cluttered room, she reached the bedroom and opened the window. A gentle spring breeze circulated through the room, bringing in the smells of Konoha. Flowers and plants in full bloom covered the village in a soft fragrance, the scents evoking a sense of nostalgia for a past Anko could not remember.

Shifting the scattered scrolls on her bed, Anko sat and began reading through the pile of texts.

When the Hokage had asked Anko back into active duty, she hadn't bothered asking him for a new teacher. It saved him the awkwardness, and her, the embarrassment, of admitting that there was no one prepared to take her on as an apprentice. Instead she had told him that she was capable of learning on her own. She supposed that the Hokage knew that, and that was why the issue of a teacher was never pressed any further. Instead, the Third gave Anko access to Konoha's many texts.

Ninjutsu techniques, taijutsu forms and styles, genjutsu theories, Anko read them all. Techniques were learned and trialled; if they worked then she kept them in her arsenal. Yet despite her ability to learn independently, the knowledge that she still wasn't trusted ate away at her. Her learning had no focus, no direction. All her knowledge was all theory and text with no real world application. And all the techniques she did know, deadly and efficient techniques, were ones she vowed never to use again. Not when _he _had taught them.

"Deep in study I see, preparing for the final rounds," a familiar voice floated from the window. Tenzou knelt on the sill, his head poking in from her window. "I heard you got through the forest."

Anko snorted and shook her head. "No thanks to my team," he replied, the last word emphasised with scorn.

Tenzou entered the room and stretched his back. He grinned at her and scratched his head. "They manage to put you into one, huh?"

"Forced me into one, you mean. The other two weren't happy, I can tell you that." She scowled at Tenzou. "And where have you been the last two months? You disappeared without a trace."

A sheepish grin crossed his face. "The Third wanted me to have some special training. I've been out of the village."

Anko looked at him sceptically. "What kind of special training?"

Excitement lit up in Tenzou. It was now clear why he was here. He rushed over and grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her up from the bed. "Come to the training fields, I'll show you."

Grumbling, Anko dropped her scroll and leapt out of the window, in pursuit of her excited friend.

They stood in the middle of an empty field, thick, spring grass surrounding them. Anko shifted on her feet impatiently. She had tracked Tenzou to this training ground, but he wasn't anywhere to be found.

The hair on the back of neck bristled, as a familiar warning kicked in. In one smooth motion, Anko ducked the incoming shuriken, feeling it narrowly miss her, and tossed a kunai behind her. Turning to face the culprit, her face dropped in horror as she saw Tenzou, her kunai sticking from his neck.

Anko ran over to him, fear making her blood run fast. As she approached she saw him smile at her. No blood ran from the wound. Feeling something tap her on the shoulder she spun quickly. Tenzou smiled at her, his wide eyes amused. She looked over her shoulder. The clone simply waved at her, the kunai glinting in the sunlight. A smirk crossed her face. "Very funny."

"I thought so," he replied.

"So where have you been these months? What's this special training?"

Tenzou looked at Anko seriously, catching her off guard. "I went back to the lab where they found me."

"What? Why?" Anko shouted before she could stop herself.

"To find out what he did to me. Lady Tsunade took me, to confirm what they learned when they found me."

"And?"

Tenzou grinned and took several steps back. Bringing his hands up, he flicked through his seals. Finishing on a serpent seal, his face strained with effort as Anko felt him focus a massive amount of chakra into the technique.

A slight tremor was all she felt before she heard the earth tear, five thick wooden pillars pushing up from the ground, snaking up like trees. Anko watched in amazement as they began to intertwine, twisting around each other and pushing through one another, creating a complex lattice of wood, high enough and thick enough to act as a wall.

Anko gawked up at the amazing creation, then looked back at Tenzou, beaming with pride. One word came to her lips. "Mokuton?"

Tenzou nodded. "Mokuton. He spliced the First Hokage's genes into me."

Revulsion and amazement filled her, competing with one another for dominance. "That's…that's…" She looked at him, unable to say anything. There was no doubt that Tenzou had an amazing gift, something no one but the First could control. But the thought that his genes had been torn from his dead body and shoved into Tenzou was monstrous.

"Anko, it's not like I haven't thought the same thing. A pretty gruesome power to inherit, isn't it?" he asked, as if reading her mind.

She lowered her head, shame turning her face red. "I'm sorry, it's just, I can't imagine wanting to use what he gave me. I can't even bring myself to use the techniques he taught me." She caught his eye, staring deep into it. "And there's no way in hell I'll ever use his mark. But you, you're gift…it's, something amazing."

His lips curled into a small smile. "I could think of it as the power that Orochimaru forced upon me, or I can make it my own and become stronger than ever. Don't you agree?"

The wooden posts loomed around her. Three of them, scorched and battered. The earth surrounding her was cracked and burned. Her fists and shins hurt from her training, but she had enough chakra for one last technique.

Tenzou's words echoed through her mind. With his gift, his curse, which he has chosen to bear and claim, Anko knew that he would become an amazingly gifted shinobi.

Knowledge of techniques long taught lingered in her head. Orochimaru's lessons of subtlety and deception, knowledge and foresight, technique and discipline, all the teachings of a great shinobi.

Hands flying through a string of seals, Anko focused her chakra into her palms, focusing on the energy, turning it into flame. With a final burst of power the flames shot out, scorching the posts and the ground surrounding her with terrible ferocity.

The lessons may have been Orochimaru's, the techniques his, but Anko could use them all to her own purpose. She would fit his teachings to her own, use them to her own purpose.

She looked at the sun, slowly setting into the horizon. With a sigh, Anko made her way back to her apartment. Now she would get some rest. The Chuunin exam finals began tomorrow, and Anko would be facing her first opponent of the tournament. A Mist ninja she knew nothing about. But Anko had no intention of losing.

Anko gawped at the towering stands, filled to the brim with the ninja world's most important personal. Daimyos and lords, personal from all ninja nations. Taking a deep breath she eyed her opponent. A Mist boy, sneering across the field. The examiner stood between them, a lazy look on his face.

Feeling something wrap around her foot, Anko glanced down. A thin wooden tendril had twisted around her foot and was tapping her on the back of the ankle. A smile crept onto her face. She knew that he was watching somewhere. Tenzou's way of saying good luck.

An idea formed in her head. She snickered to herself, impressed with her inspired idea. Drawing her chakra, she prepared herself. Her eye was drawn to the main podium, where the Third Hokage sat watching. She met his glance and nodded, hoping that he knew she wanted to do him proud. She would show not just Konoha, but the world how worthy she was.

The examiner stretched out a hand, then dropped it, quickly making his way away from the contestants. The battle had begun. Anko immediately reached into her pouches and tossed several kunai towards the Mist ninja. He easily dodged it and charged. As he ran towards her, the Mist Nin whipped out a scroll. Closing in, he tossed it towards Anko. Jumping backwards, Anko avoided the scroll, unsure whether it would explode. Instead, it uncurled and let out a puff of smoke. A thin, but keen looking sword emerged from the scroll. Suddenly, the Mist ninja burst through the smoke, grabbing his blade from the air, and in one fluid motion sliced through her chest. A stab to the stomach finished the job.

He sneered at her, his long arm holding the blade in her gut. Anko simple stared at him before sneering back. Her face began to melt, along with her arms and body. The colour from her face and clothes began to fade into grey before turning brown. The same colour as a mud replacement.

The Mist Nin looked down in panic as he felt the snakes emerging from the ground constrict tightly around his legs, rendering him unable to move. Raising his arm, he swung his sword to cut himself free. Slicing through one of the snakes, he began to raise his leg. A new head burst from the severed body, thrusting forwards with an angry hiss. Unable to react quick enough, the Mist Nin screamed as the snake bit into his calf, pinning him back in place. Two more snakes burst up, biting into his wrists and anchoring him to the ground. He stared up to where Anko stood in front of him, a safe distance away.

Her hands flew into familiar patterns, the technique as familiar to her as scratching her head. Stretching an arm out, she let out a single whisper. _Hidden Shadow Snake Hands._ A single snake shot from her sleeve, stretching out like a whip and securely biting the Mist Nin in the shoulder. Holding him securely, Anko brought her hands together combining the seals needed. Drawing her chakra and breath into her chest, she breathed out a burst of flame. A small flame ran along the guiding snake that held the Mist Nin, before a torrent of fire blazed along the tether after it. She couldn't help but smile as the Mist Nin's screams mixed with the crowds shocked applause.

She would have to thank Tenzou for the inspiration.


End file.
